Armor
by FyrePhoenyx
Summary: With a sudden yet smooth, dominating yet gentle motion, Sasuke flipped our positions, pinning me to the floor and restraining my wrists by my head. My heart stopped as he brought his lips near mine, smirking. “Is your armor strong enough now?” AU SasuOC
1. Chapter 1: My Own World

_Armor_

_Chapter 1_

_My Own World_

I hate taxis. Being a native of New York City, I've had quite a number of experiences with them and every single one I've ridden in has smelled of stale food, had gum stuck somewhere, and played bad, static music on a fifty-year-old radio. Check, check, and check –the one I was in passed my test with flying colors. The driver wasn't helping the cause either. He was a fat, greasy, black haired man who whistled along to the terrible music. He also kept glancing back at me in the rear mirror which really creeped me out. I shot him another glare when his beady eyes met mine once again.

We had only been driving for forty-five minutes and already I was getting motion sickness, partly from my immense desire to be anywhere else besides the small, stale taxi. With my forehead pressed to the glass window, I locked my eyes on the horizon in attempt to cure my headache. Tree. Tree. Tree. Tree. House. Tree. Tree. Tree. UGH. I groaned, pressing my eyes tightly shut.

"Take this, Miss Knighton." Albert Wilkens, an old man with kind eyes and a heart to match, held out two pills in his hand.

"Thanks, Albert, you know me too well." I swallowed them dry.

"I got a little help from your constant groaning and glaring. But yes, I did bring some pills just in case." He smiled, his fair cheeks wrinkled from a life of smiling. Albert Wilkens had been my family's butler, caretaker, assistant, whatever you want to call it, for decades. He was also both my legal guardian and closest friend. The only sort of family I had left. He was the most hard-working and selfless person I knew and has devoted his life to the perseverance of my family's name and work.

After an hour more of trees and delightful music, the taxi finally turned into a secluded neighborhood with a marble sign displaying "Salem Heights" in gold letters. Every home that we passed was a huge mansion, most of them with gates, gardens, and sports cars visible on the front lawns. I shouldn't have been surprised that my parents bought a house in a neighborhood like this, but it was quite different from the busy New York City scene I was used to. This neighborhood had a calm feeling to it, homey and down to earth despite being luxurious and high-class. Still, I knew adjusting to the city of Salem in South California was going to take a vast amount of effort.

Ho. Ly. Shit. My jaw dropped when the taxi pulled into our house's circular driveway where the moving van was already waiting. I should say manor, to be technical. My family's _manor_ was gorgeous at first glance. It was huge, with at least four floors, and a beautiful mix of stucco and dark wood with a touch of Victorian style. The driveway circled around a fountain surrounded by flowers. Albert explained to me earlier that this house had been in my family for decades, although neither of my parents grew up in it. I was actually kind of excited to explore the old place –as long as there were no ghosts.

"So this entire thing is for the two of us?" I asked as Albert and I got out of the taxi, not taking my eyes off the gorgeous architecture.

"Yes, ma'am. I was also thinking it was going to be a bit cramped. But I think we can manage."

I laughed, pulling the bags of the taxi's trunk while Albert paid the driver. I shot the greasy driver one last glare as he got back into the car and drove off. Albert explained the basic layout of the house to me while I carried in the bags (I told him not to strain his old bones) and the movers carried in everything else. For some reason, I was surprised to see that the house was furnished and maintained. It was like someone had been living here all along. Like no one ever left. I got a small case of shivers.

"This is your room, Miss Knighton." Albert said, out of breath from the trek up four flights of stairs.

"You better go lie down, Albert. Stairs aren't meant for old geezers." I grinned, opening the door to reveal a large, appealing room.

"I cannot tell you how many times I've climbed those stairs in my lifetime, Miss Knighton. I'm just a little rusty, that's all." He smiled, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

My room had plush, cream carpet and raspberry walls with gold trimming. There was a king-sized, canopy bed, other furniture, a bathroom (complete with Jacuzzi), and a white marble balcony. Windows lined the back wall where the balcony was, allowing the early afternoon sunlight to brighten every corner of the room. I think I was going to like living here.

After a few more hours of moving in, when everything settled down a little more, I asked Albert the most important question of all…

"So where can I train?" I hopped down the last two stair steps dressed in work out clothes, pulling a pair of black, open-fingered gloves on my already wrapped hands.

"I had the movers set everything up for you. Walk straight to the back through these doors, you won't miss it."

"Thanks, Albert!" I smiled, followed his directions, and walked into a room with all my training equipment set up. The room was absolutely perfect. The temperature was cool, there were mats laid out on the concrete floor and like my room, it had one side of windows. The room was complete with a punching bag, speed bag, weight training equipment, a refrigerator stocked with water bottles, and various other things.

I closed my eyes, inhaled slowly, and relaxed my shoulders. I let my mind calm and focus, listening to my heart's own beat and focusing on the blood and energy flowing through my body. I was entering my own world now. A world where I was confident. Strong. Happy. A world that let me forget the pains of my past, even if just for a moment. A world that I have been training in everyday for ten years. A world that acted as an outlet, allowing me to transform anger into strength. If I hadn't entered the world of mixed martial arts, I wouldn't be alive today. It saved me from myself.

I began to bounce on my toes, bringing my fists up near my face as I targeted the worn-out black punching bag in front of me. I began to punch it, lightly at first, but shortly picked up the intensity. I only stopped to jump rope and stretch, and then returned to my main training. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. My breaths were short and sharp. Beads of sweat ran down my face; I loved the salty taste when I licked my lips. It reminded me that I was in the midst of accomplishment.

I paused to take a break after two hours. Gulping down water, I noticed that there was a house not too far from mine, clearly visible through the wall of windows. Although the lots in the neighborhood were huge, each house was only about an acre apart from its neighboring houses. I admired the house's beauty. It even had a swimming pool and hot tub in the back. Swimming sounded really nice right about then...maybe a cute boy lived there who I could mooch the pool off of. I smirked. Yeah right, I've never been that lucky.

I had no idea how wrong I was.


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Salem

_Chapter 2_

_Welcome to Salem_

Fuck. I have to go to high school today. And I'm a senior. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Shit. I haven't been to a public school since…well, ever. I attended a really snobby private school for most of my childhood, and afterword had a private tutor up until last year. But Albert thought that since we were in a new town, I could grasp the invaluable opportunity and turn over a new leaf! Great. Apparently, the majority of kids in Salem Heights attended public schools. I guess they're pretty good in the community. I really didn't care. It wasn't like I was a bad student or anything. It was just the whole…_high school_ thing.

Out of pure loath toward the coming day, I hit snooze five times when my alarm screamed at me. Then I covered my head with my pillow, ignoring Albert's warnings wake up. I should have listened. He came stomping into my room minutes later (out of breath might I add), armed with a blow horn and let it loose. I shrieked and jumped up, feeling my heart about to burst through my chest. Before I could yell at him, Albert had flown out of my room (way quicker than I thought he could possibly move). So instead I thrashed around on my bed a bit. Mature, I know. Sleep deprived from nightmares throughout the night, pissed about having to go to high school, and now undergoing a heart attack; I was pretty pessimistic about how this whole thing was going to turn out. I huffed my way to the shower, very glad that I set my alarm early just in case I had a morning like I was having.

I stood naked in my walk-in closet for about ten minutes, entirely indecisive about what to wear. What do teenagers wear on the first day? Am I supposed to dress up? This was already way too annoying. I also felt pretty stupid for needing to ask such questions. I was seventeen years old. I feel like I should be able to dress myself properly by now.

Sighing, I picked out dark wash skinny jeans, a charcoal tunic and black riding boots. Secretly, I also wore my lucky Batman briefs. Shh…

I stared at myself in a full-length mirror, taking in every curve and angle of my body. I was tall and skinny: about 5'9 and thin only because of my athletic obsession. My olive skin decided to be oily today, so I patted some off and then attempted to tame my long, wavy, dark brown hair. To finish up, I applied mascara. My eyes, a shockingly bright purple, are actually my favorite physical feature. They matched my mom's perfectly. Though I've heard on numerous occasions that I resembled my father a lot more. Before heading downstairs, I clicked off the nightlight I'd been unable to sleep with for more years than I was willing to admit.

Luckily, my car arrived in Salem a few days ago from New York, so at least I could drive to school now. I had a small girl-crush on Sheila. She was a red-candy colored, manual transmission, Ford Mustang. And don't ask me why I named her Sheila. Or why I even named her in the first place. Or why she's a girl. I was sixteen and liked the name Sheila, okay?

After saying a bitter bye to Albert, I sat down in Sheila but found myself paralyzed. I didn't want to move. I forced myself to turn on the car, hitting the back of my head against the black leather seat. After a few minutes of feeling guilty for wasting gas, I drove out of the garage and blasted some rock music.

As I turned onto the street, a black sports car was speeding down the driveway of the house next to mine with the pool. Having the right away, I kept increasing my speed, but the car decided to keep going also. Realizing the crash about to happen, I slammed on my breaks and swore loudly but drowned out my own curse by hitting the horn. I kept my palm on the horn just to tick off the asshole. Without even stopping, the car tore off with a roar, but not before I could tell what kind of car it was. And it was a really fucking nice car. A Maserati GranTurismo to be exact. How did I not expect the driver to be completely rude?

Assuming that the driver was a teenager, thus a high school student, I decided to race after him. One, to show him that I was still pissed off (I have a slight case of road rage), and two, so I could follow him to school. I had the directions memorized, but it would be better to follow someone just in case I took a wrong turn. And if he seemed to not be going to the school, I wouldn't follow him anymore. Finally convinced that my logic was legitimate, I switched gears to break the speed limit in a kids-don't-try-this-at-home-way because the car was pretty far ahead of me. I shortly got close enough so the driver could see me, but not close enough to put Sheila in danger of a nick.

It kind of felt like an action movie. Like I was chasing a bad guy, both of our cars tearing through the empty road. I promise I didn't start to sing my own theme song right then.

Keeping the directions in mind, I realized that the douchey sports car driver was in fact going to Salem High School. It pulled into the parking lot, turning smoothly into a spot while I parked a couple rows down. A guy stepped out of the car but I couldn't see his face. From far away, his backside looked pretty good as he began walking toward the school. He did so in a whole I'm-an-asshole-who-thinks-I-have-swagger-because-I-drive-a-Maserti kind of way. I puffed my cheeks in annoyance and told myself to let it go. I wasn't going to let myself get pissed off before I even stepped foot into the building. Finally, I grabbed my backpack, took a deep breath, and got out of my car.

The parking lot was chaotic. There were reckless drivers everywhere, fighting for good parking spots; students standing around talking with each other, playing Frisbee, or throwing a football. I groaned after seeing an obnoxious black and gold hand-painted banner that read, "Welcome to Salem!" hung above the main entrance. The chaos on the inside of the massive school matched that of the outside. People were everywhere, mostly talking, and some still finding ways to play sports in the halls.

Luckily for me there were clear signs almost everywhere in the school. I only wandered around for a bit until I found the front office. When the door shut behind me, it cut off all the noise from the halls. I sighed in relief.

"May I help you, dearie?" A pudgy but kind looking secretary asked me.

"Yes, I'm new here. My name's Kyra Knighton." I answered politely. She looked at me dumbfounded for a couple seconds before realizing her rudeness and quickly turned to her computer. She began rambling about classes, teachers, all that jazz and I didn't miss the side-glances she kept giving me. I didn't listen to what she was saying. I was too distracted and a little angry by the gaping look she just gave me. Back in New York, I was kind of famous because of my parents. I really didn't think anyone in California would be able to recognize my name, being across the country and all, and even if they did, I didn't think they would recognize my face. I started bouncing my leg in annoyance of the situation. The secretary printed off my schedule, still rambling, and handed me a lock. I tuned in when she started talking about my locker and after mumbling a cold "thanks" I went to find it. In the hallway, I read over my schedule. Art, English, Physics, Lunch, History, Spanish, Calculus. Whoo…

I headed off to Art class after organizing everything in my locker, following the signs once again. I walked into the class with ten minutes before the bell rang. There were only two other girls in the class, seated together in the front, chatting loudly. The two sized me up as I walked past them. Bitches, please. I cocked an eyebrow at them and took a seat in the back row. They continued to talk obnoxiously. I looked around at the room cluttered with art supplies and various other art related things. I pulled a pencil out of my pocket and played with it on my desk, popping my lips in boredom. The two girls were still chatting, and I was bored, so I began to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Oh my god, did you see him pull in today?! I swear that just gets hotter every time."

"Oh my god, I know, right? He is, like, the sexiest boy in the world. Do you think he'll, like, be in this class?!"

"Oh my god, I so totally hope so. He _is _amazing at art. I would, like, kill to make that happen!"

Was that the car that I followed here? I was going to continue eavesdropping, but two other girls walked in, laughing with each other. They both were quite pretty, one was blonde and the other was Asian. They sat down in the row in front of me, continuing their conversation and receiving glares from the other two girls. I grinned, amused that I was already witnessing the infamous catty-girl drama of high school. Still bored, I moved to eavesdropping on the new girls' conversation.

"I completely kicked Ethan's ass yesterday." The blonde grinned, stretching her arms out confidently.

"How did I miss that? Seriously! I have no idea where I was," responded the Asian.

"I think you were running laps or something. I wasn't in the main room. We sparred in one of the side ones."

"Oh okay. Did you jab his mouth? He really needs either a muzzle or a broken jaw to shut him up." The two girls laughed.

"Nah, I didn't get close to his face. It was just sparring, Moon!"

"Yeah, like you're one to take it easy in practice!"

My eyes widened as they continued their conversation. Were these girls fighters also? I knew that Salem was a big martial arts town and hosted a few major national tournaments every year, so maybe a lot of teenagers here did it. I began to closely examine the girls with this spontaneous spark of curiosity.

It was a little difficult from my angle, but I started with the blonde. Her hair, a light shade, reached her mid-back and was routinely flipped. She had fair skin, and from what I could tell when she turned, had light freckles on her nose. She was very pretty and dressed in all designer clothing. I was really jealous of the adorable Coach Poppy magenta bow flats that decorated her feet.

I moved on to the Asian. Her hair was short and black, cut in an angled bob with side-swept bangs. She had smooth, ivory skin, high cheekbones, and long eyelashes. She dressed her petite frame in dark clothing that was nice, but not as nice as her friend's. And from what the blonde called her earlier, her name was Moon, which was badass and earns her a gold star in my book right away.

Now, for the actual purpose of my inspection: signs of fighting. They both had lightly bruised and reddened knuckles, and a few bruises on their arms. Also, they both seemed to be in good shape with defined muscle. Those were good enough signs for me. Plus, there were only two minutes till the bell rang for class to start.

"Excuse me," I started, interrupting the blonde in midsentence. The pair turned around to look at me. I now had a direct view of their faces and they were definitely not the kind of girls who looked pretty from far away, but once you move in closer, you find out that they're actually ugly with layers of make-up, orange tans, and sticky lip gloss. No, these girls were naturally beautiful (though they still wore light make-up). The blonde had light gray eyes and an overall classic beauty to her. She kind of had that girl-next-door look, but not plain in any way. The other girl, Moon, had a round yet structured face with sharp, chocolate-brown eyes.

After realizing that I was taking too long to respond, I cleared my throat and continued.

"Sorry, but I was sort of eavesdropping, and I have to ask, what kind of fighting were you talking about?" The two looked at each other, both puzzled and amused.

"Mixed martial arts." Moon replied with a small smile. Bingo.

"Are you guys in a club? I just moved here and I'm looking for a good one to join. I heard that MMA was pretty big here."

"Wait, _you_ fight?" The blonde asked, looking at me from head to toe (well, from head to waist where desk cut me off). What is with these girls and sizing me up? I settled the anger rising in me, wanting to play nice because I needed information.

"Yeah I do, is there something wrong?" I replied, and the girl gave a smile with a thousand meanings behind it. I read every one of them. Her smile was condescending and arrogant, concealed behind fake sweetness and innocence to try and hide the wicked laughter growing within her. What pissed me off even more was the girl looked straight into my eyes when she fixed her mouth into that closed U shape.

"Sorry, but we're members of the most elite club in the state. It isn't just something you can join because you suddenly just _feel_ like doing so," said the blonde. You have got to be kidding me. I opened my mouth to respond, but the bell suddenly rang. I was too caught off guard to even jump from its deafening screech. I just stared ahead of me, my mouth slightly open. The two turned back to face the front of the room, leaving me steaming in anger. I also didn't realize that the class had filled up and a middle-aged woman with short red hair and large glasses walked in.

"Welcome, children, to the realm of Art!" She fluttered her arms in the air, causing the bracelets and necklaces covering her body to jingle. "I am your teacher, Miss Tilliwater!" She continued to speak in a romanticized voice, sweeping her long, brightly colored skirt behind her. "Now today, although I'm sure we all are lovely friends already, our sole goal is to accomplish introductions!" There was a uniform groan among the class. "An art class is only successful within a community of well-bonded artists! Now, let's begiiin!" She sang out the "in" in "begin".

Thirty introductions. Wonderful. I listened to the first kid to see what we had to say and then zoned out, shooting daggers at the girls in front of me. The kid next to me threw his head onto the desk, almost blinding me with his shockingly bright, spiky yellow hair. How can hair be that yellow? Wait a second, the girl next to him has pink hair…what is with this place? They both must have dyed their hair…right?

I snapped out of my contemplation when the blonde girl in front of me began her introduction.

"Hi, my name is Genna LaMore, umm…I like to shop, and this summer I went to France with my family." Gag me, please. She probably stayed in a high tower of a castle that her father owns or something really prissy like that. There is no way she fights. Moon was up next.

"Hello, I'm Moon Raikano, I enjoy reading and this summer I worked at my family's restaurant."

A few more people went until it was my turn.

"Hi, my name's Kyra Knighton. I love to run and this summer I moved here from New York City."

Shit. Shouldn't have said that. Every pair of eyes turned to look at me: the new girl in town. Suddenly, there was a spark of excitement in their routine day. I was fresh meat for their judgments. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bright blonde peeking up at me. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I really hoped my cheeks weren't turning pink right then. Finally, the kid started talking and I stopped holding my breath as people began turning their attention to him.

"Hey everybody! My name is Naruto Uzumaki and I love ramen and food in general, and this summer, I…uh…oh! I got a tattoo!" He started to lift up his shirt, and although that was pretty hot, I found the reactions in the room more entertaining. The teacher yelled at him to keep his shirt on, the girls shifted their seats to get a better view, and the boys looked both pissed from all the attention he was getting and interested in seeing what he got done. He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and apologizing insincerely to the teacher. The class broke into laughter. Well, I just discovered the class clown who happened to be hot on top of loud and funny. He had tan skin, that hair, white teeth and bright blue eyes. And from the glimpse I got of his abs, he was ripped. Naruto seemed to be just a colorful person in general. Bright hair. Bright skin. Bright eyes. Bright teeth. Bright personality. The rest of the year would be quite interesting if I continued to sit next to him.

After the teacher quieted the class down, the pink-haired girl next to Naruto went.

"Hey guys, my name is Sakura Haruno and I couldn't live without my friends, and I went to Hawaii this summer." She tilted her head and smiled, her short pink hair flowing with her. She seemed sweet. Maybe a little too sweet…her sea-foam green eyes were big and innocent, complimenting her fair skin and small frame. She kind of reminded me of a pale watermelon. Now there was only one more person to go.

"I'm Sasuke Uchiha."

I could have sworn that a volcano erupted at that moment. I thought that the class' reactions to Naruto were entertaining, but these were just…unbelievable. And a little sickening, actually. Right when the guy spoke in a low, calm, almost chilling voice, every girl shifted her desk two feet toward him (some even squealed), leaning as close as possible with wide, love struck eyes. The loud screech of metal against tile made me cringe. The two chatting girls were basically having seizures in their chairs, gripping each other's hands for emotional support, I guess. Were they crying? Well they weren't the only ones in the class. I assumed this was the hot rod, asshole driver. The boys in the class, once again, got extremely jealous and began pouting in their chairs, refusing to even look in the guy's direction to give him more attention. It seemed like every heartbeat in the class raced into overdrive. Sasuke continued with his introduction.

"I don't enjoy many things nor do I have anything odd about me. This summer I did some things."

Who was this kid? With my curiosity at a high, I turned in his direction, leaning a bit forward to look past Naruto and Sakura to find out.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

My jaw fell open. My heart raced. I suddenly had butterflies in my stomach. This boy was drop-dread gorgeous. And I don't mean average I'll-take-what-I-can-get-in-this-town gorgeous. I mean male model, Greek God, movie star drop-dead gorgeous. He looked like he stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine, or just floated down from heaven, popped off his wings and halo and strolled into Salem. For a rare occurrence in my life, I wasn't being sarcastic. He had pale, almost white, flawless skin that looked like it was carved from a perfect slab of marble. His hair was black, with a hint of navy blue, and untamed, but still appeared polished. His eyes were black, contrasting greatly with the paleness of his flawless complexion. He sat in such a casual yet cocky way that made me both love and hate him more. His perfectly defined face had a subtle arrogance to it, like he knew he was absolutely perfect, but was too badass to talk about something as fragile as beauty.

He also looked like a complete tool/asshole/man-whore who has already done every possible bad thing a teenager could do. However, he was a gorgeous tool/asshole/man-whore. Now I saw why every girl turned to stare and basically died from an overwhelming flood of emotions, listening with undivided attention to every word that came out of his perfectly shaped mouth. How many times have I used the term "perfect" in the last minute? Well, there's really no other suitable word.

It was just a wild and crazy guess, but I thought this kid, Sasuke, was a pretty big deal in the school. An actual hunch was that he was friends with Naruto and Sakura, just by the way they sat together. Since Naruto was the class clown, he must also be popular, which means Sakura was popular by association. Or maybe for something else, I don't know. Either way, what was basically happening was that I was sitting next to the three most popular kids in school. I couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. Also, I was sitting being two bitches who haven't seen the last of me today. This was way too much drama and excitement to handle for my first hour on my first day of my first public school ever.

Yet, despite the rush of excitement and newness and anger and lust and countless other emotions I've experienced in the past hour, I still felt a smile twitch at the corner of my mouth. I bent my head down slightly, sheltering my face from the rest of the class to hide the smile I couldn't contain. I couldn't stop smiling about the fact that this heartthrob, male model, gift to all teenage girls from God, proof of perfection, rude Maserati owner, beautiful asshole Sasuke Uchiha was my next door neighbor.

**A/N- I hope you all enjoyed the story! Review are my main form of inspiration and encouragement, so if willing, please do! I sincerely listen to constructive criticism, but please no pointless or unnecessarily rude flaming. I would love to know what you guys think so far, any ideas you have, etc. Thanks everyone :)**

**~FyrePhoenyx**


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